Monkeys With Typewriters
by Red Witch
Summary: The Dreadnoks are trying to think of ideas for getting some cash. Actually getting the Dreadnoks to think at all is a challenge in itself.


**The disclaimer saying that I don't own any GI Joe characters has gone off to do something somewhere. Just some more mad drabbles from my mad little mind.**

**Monkeys With Typewriters**

"All right Dreadnoks," Zartan called out to his team as they met in a conference room filled with chairs and a large table. "This meeting of the mindless shall now be called into session! Zandar you take the minutes."

"Why do **I** always have to write everything down when we have a meeting?" Zandar snapped.

"Well who **else **is going to do it?" Zartan pointed at the Dreadnoks. "I can't even count on this lot to take a shower let alone written notes!"

"Well what about Zarana?" Zandar snapped. "Why doesn't **she** do it?"

"Why don't you just shut your yap before I shut it for you?" Zarana snarled as she made a fist. "I'm not your bleedin' secretary so if you think you can make me act like one I'm gonna pretend I'm a chiropractor and break your flippin' spine!"

"I believe **that** answers your question, Zandar?" Zartan gave him a look.

"Oh right," Zandar sighed as he grabbed a notebook and took out a pen. "I'm ready. Let's get this meeting over with."

"What are we having a meeting about Zartan?" Monkeywrench asked as he sat down on a chair. "It's not about the fact that I've started drinking cranberry juice cocktails is it?"

"I can't believe you told us that!" Ripper snapped.

"Cor mate I don't even know you anymore!" Torch agreed.

"It's for me health! And since I've been drinking cranberry juice with my booze I've been having more regular bowel movements!" Monkeywrench protested.

"Okay that goes in the too much information category," Zandar sighed. "I'm **not **putting that in the notes!"

"Thank you," Zartan sighed.

"So if it's not about that then what is this meeting about?" Buzzer asked. "We haven't exactly blown that much stuff up since we got back from vacation."

"Haven't had time too," Torch agreed. "Wait there was that soft drink vending machine in the hallway which started the whole cranberry juice debate…"

"Actually it's about something Donald said the other day," Zartan interrupted. "You know when Cobra Commander was missing for a few days."

"Yeah everybody thought he flew the coop but he was really trapped in one," Buzzer snickered.

"Yeah those chickens were really laying into him," Ripper laughed.

"This time Cobra Commander literally had egg on his face," Monkeywrench chortled.

"Yes it was very amusing," Zartan sighed. "However…The fact remains that Cobra is no closer to its goal of world domination than the United States Government is in erasing the national debt. In fact, both are in even worse situations than when they started."

"That ain't good," Torch frowned.

"So what's this got to do with us?" Monkeywrench asked.

"I'm glad you asked that question, Monkeywrench," Zartan said. "Basically since the Dreadnoks have invested a lot of time and energy in working with Cobra over the years, they have become our main and quite frankly only source of revenue."

"Huh?" Torch scratched his head.

"The only blokes giving us any cash were Cobra," Buzzer explained. "And since Cobra was our only client these past twenty something years we don't have any other jobs from other folks. Therefore we don't got any more money cause no one else is paying us."

"Oh," Torch nodded his head. "Now I get it."

"That makes sense," Monkeywrench agreed.

"Very succinct Buzzer. You have explained our situation exactly," Zartan sighed. Since Cobra's fortunes have gone down the proverbial toilet, so have ours. Now the question remains what do we **do **about it?"

"I don't suppose selling some of Cobra Commander's stuff on Ebay is gonna cut it, is it?" Torch asked.

"Not really," Zartan sighed. "Especially since the only thing he has left of any value is his collection of alcohol. And I'm not stupid enough to touch that!"

"Especially with what happened to the last poor blokes that did so," Monkeywrench shuddered.

"I felt really bad for those poor sharks," Ripper said. "I mean they got drunk so fast on those blokes they ate they started crashing into the walls of their aquarium!"

"Yeah, I never saw a shark vomit before," Zarana agreed.

"How about we sell some of Destro's and the Baroness' stuff?" Road Pig suggested in Donald's voice.

"It's a start," Zarana shrugged and looked at Zartan.

"Let's put that down as a maybe," Zartan motioned. "Zandar…"

"Steal valuables from Destro, the Baroness…And anyone else with anything we can get a quick buck off," Zandar wrote. "Any other ideas?"

"Yeah! I got a great one!" Torch spoke up. "I could rent myself out as a male gigolo!"

"Okay…" Zartan winced painfully. "Already I can see **several** flaws in this plan. The biggest one is you, Torch. Zarana, would you like to continue on as I feel I am about to throw up in my mouth?"

"Torch, you do realize that women like to sleep with men who look good and smell good right?" Zarana groaned. "And you ain't exactly up to snuff in either category! In fact one sniff from you women would pay **not **to sleep with you!"

"What do you mean?" Torch blinked.

"Dude, the cologne ain't working! There's skunks out there that run when they get a whiff of you!" Buzzer snapped.

"But I've had this stuff since 1974!" Torch protested.

"Oh cor, mate is that the last time you **bathed?"** Ripper asked. "Cause that explains the smell!"

"I took a shower last week, Mister Smart Guy!" Torch grunted. "I put the cologne on every day! Which reminds me my last gallon is almost out. I need to find another one."

"You get your cologne by the gallon?" Ripper asked.

"Have you ever smelled him?" Monkeywrench snorted. "He puts it on by the gallon!"

"It's my favorite brand! Musky Musk Men!" Torch said.

"D-Dude they st-stopped making that brand in the seventies!" Road Pig spoke. Everyone looked at him. "I l-like to k-keep up with the latest fashion trends! Sue me!"

"Yeah. I told you I had this stuff since 1974," Torch looked confused.

"You've been using the same stuff for almost forty…?" Zartan's eyes widened.

Zarana snapped. "Torch! You can't use the same scent like that! Don't you know that stuff goes bad after a few years?"

"It does?" Torch blinked. "Oh. Well that explains why it turned green. Then black. And all those floaty bits on the bottom."

"Zandar, take a note," Zartan moaned. "Throw up after meeting. Then throw **out **Torch's cologne."

"Better yet just throw Torch out period!" Buzzer groaned while holding his nose.

"Preferably into a very large body of water," Road Pig spoke using Donald's voice. "The ocean might do it."

"If we did that we might kill off half the wildlife in the ocean!" Ripper protested.

"True," Zartan thought. "Zandar put that down as another possible scheme. I know there's an extortion plot in there somewhere. Let's move on. Any other ideas? Please? _**Any**_ other ideas?"

"We can make another Cold Slither Album and sell it on the Internet!" Buzzer suggested.

"**Another** Cold Slither Album?" Monkeywrench asked. "You mean you made one before?"

"I thought it was just a single used so Destro could admit a mind control signal?" Donald spoke.

"It was. But we made an album too," Torch said. "A couple of them actually."

"You made a **couple** of albums?" Monkeywrench asked.

"It was before you joined us mate," Buzzer said. "The first one was just called Cold Slither and the second we called Slither In Your Face."

"But you gentlemen have the musical sensibilities of a drunken kangaroo with one arm," Donald said.

"Hey it got us a couple of Grammys," Torch shrugged.

"Plus we fixed a lot of stuff in the editing room," Zartan nodded. "Oh the miracle that is the auto tuner."

"We still got a lot of fans out there," Torch said. "Me and Buzzer made up this Cold Slither website and we must have gotten at least at thousand hits on there. Okay most of 'em are from prisoners fooling around on the internet when the guards think they're getting online degrees but there is a market…"

"An admirable idea I must admit," Zartan sighed. "But there are a few flaws in that plan as well. For starters…No one here can actually play an instrument…"

"Didn't stop the Monkees," Buzzer pointed out. "And besides you can play guitar. We've all heard you."

"Yeah and Zarana's pretty damn good on the piano," Road Pig spoke up.

"Since when did you learn to play the piano?" Zartan looked at his sister.

"I once had an assignment to infiltrate a music school for Cobra Commander," Zarana shrugged. "Taught myself."

"Why would Cobra Commander want you to infiltrate a music school?" Zandar asked.

"Remember that foreign politician that refused to take bribes from Cobra?" Zarana sighed. "He had a daughter in that music school and I was supposed to kidnap her."

"Oh I get it," Zartan said. "So you kidnapped the girl for the Commander in order to get the ransom money?"

"Well that was the plan," Zarana sighed.

"What happened?" Zandar asked.

"For starters, the diplomat didn't have a little girl going to that school," Zarana sighed. "He had a thirty two year old martial arts instructor who weighed almost two hundred and fifty pounds and looked like a girl version of the Hulk."

"Ah. I see…." Zandar sighed.

"Too bad our so called intelligence operators couldn't otherwise I'd have saved myself some serious bruises…" Zarana winced. "And the worst part is when we finally did get her the diplomat wouldn't pay!"

"Let me guess…Daddy and daughter didn't get along?" Zartan sighed.

"Bingo. We would have gotten more cash if we threatened to give her back if we didn't get the money!" Zarana groaned.

"It was a disaster wasn't it?" Zandar asked.

"Not completely," Zarana shrugged. "Long story short Cobra ended up with a new drill instructor and I ended up with a new tennis partner."

"Wow. What a story. What were we talking about again?" Torch blinked.

"Your idea to bring Cold Slither back and why it's a bad one," Zartan sighed. "Point number two…Your idea is number two because none of you can sing!"

"Again, neither can half the singers out there," Buzzer pointed out.

"Yeah we could use one of those auto tuner things or lip synch," Ripper agreed.

"I'd go with the auto tuner, chaps," Road Pig spoke as Donald. "As you can recall neither Ripper nor Monkeywrench are very good at lip synching."

"Oh right…" Monkeywrench. "I remember now."

"Yeah the last thing we want to be is Heavy Metal's version of Milli Vanilli," Ripper agreed. "Auto tuning it is."

"Plus most of the singers nowadays scream their songs and we can do that," Buzzer pointed out.

"We've certainly had a lot of practice screaming over the years," Zartan admitted.

"See, it's all good! So what's the problem?" Torch asked.

"The problem my dear mindless minion is that if we formed a band we can't go on tour to promote our music," Zartan pointed out. "On account that we are wanted by every law enforcement agency known on Earth!"

"And some of them that aren't so well known," Zandar pointed out.

"Oh…So we can't put on concerts because then the cops would know where to find us?" Monkeywrench blinked.

"That would make it difficult to reap a profit from ticket sales, yes," Zartan gave him a look.

"And with our luck we'd probably sell them to some bloody Joes or cops!" Zarana groaned.

"So we'll do online concerts!" Torch spoke up. "I mean this is the Internet Age ain't it? Almost every band out there nowadays gets discovered on Me Tube. Why can't we just put a few videos up online, get A Glamazon account and sell our music that way?"

"Well that's a pretty good idea but let's keep going anyway…" Zartan sighed. "Any other ideas?"

Torch raised his hand. "From someone **other** than Torch?" Zartan rolled his eyes.

"I've got an idea," Monkeywrench spoke up. "You know how kids love cute fuzzy animals? And you know how they love video games like that Pokémon? I got something that combines the two…"

"We are **not** creating real live Pokémon," Zartan interrupted.

"Why not?" Monkeywrench asked.

"Because Doctor Mindbender already **tried** that a couple of weeks ago, remember?" Buzzer spoke up.

"Oh right, with those mutant lemurs running about setting fire to everything," Monkeywrench realized. "Sorry I forgot."

"Wait! I got it! We get the mutant lemurs and drop 'em on the GI Joe Base…" Ripper spoke up.

"Again, that has already been tried," Zartan sighed. "And failed miserably."

"How miserably?" Torch asked.

"Apparently the mutant lemurs' genetics were unstable enough so when they were frightened enough they exploded," Zartan sighed. "And for some reason they also had an unusual fear of heights and flying in an airplane…"

"Wait is that the plane we had to hose off the other day as punishment for spilling grape soda all over the Commander's carpet?" Monkeywrench asked.

"That's the one," Zartan sighed. "And let me take a guess…You didn't clean it up did you?"

"No, we didn't," Ripper admitted.

"We went off and played billiards instead," Buzzer said.

"Oh. I wondered what that smell in the hanger was…" Zandar sighed. "Now I know."

"And knowing is a very good reason to stay out of the Commander's way for a while," Zartan sighed. "Not to mention investing in some air freshener."

"Look there's got to be something we can do!" Zarana snapped. "There's hundreds of wars going on all over the world. You telling me we can't rent ourselves out to one of those armies?"

"Let's just say with our travel history, the list of potential employers is rather limited," Zartan sighed. "For starters every country in the Middle East is out of the question. Especially after that fiasco of a summit of terrorist leaders Cobra Commander put on last year."

"In my defense I have gotten rave reviews and prizes in the past for my barbecue rib recipe," Torch spoke up. "And who doesn't like a good roasted pig on a spit? How was I supposed to know those blokes would be so picky?"

"Ironically Torch that was the **least **blasphemous incident of the entire affair," Zartan glared at Road Pig.

"For the _last time_, that picture I painted was of Muhammad **Ali!** Greatest boxer of all time!" Road Pig snapped in his Donald voice. "It's not my fault signals got crossed."

"Unfortunately our guests got very crossed," Zartan remarked. "Especially when Zarana killed that exiled former dictator."

"He was making passes all night and I just had it!" Zarana snapped. "It's not like he was the only one killed and I was the only one doing the killing."

"That's true," Zandar admitted. "I knew letting Cobra Commander have access to a flame thrower while drunk was a bad idea."

"Well what about Africa?" Zarana asked. "What about the fighting going on over there?"

"Well in Africa as I recall we had three double crossings on our side," Zartan counted. "A triple crossing in Zimbabwe. Two capital cities burned to the ground. An elephant stampede in another capital city. A zebra stampede through one dictator's mansion. Another incident where someone had an affair with a dictator's **wife…**"

"She came on to me!" Ripper shouted.

"A diamond mine takeover scheme that failed," Zartan kept counting. "Two faulty weapons sales and a slight near nuclear meltdown."

"Europe's a wash," Zandar sighed. "Especially after the diamond smuggling fiasco."

"Hiding diamonds in works of art was pretty clever," Torch said.

"Yes but those works of art ended up getting sold to either Interpol agents or other diamond smugglers," Zandar sighed. "And they were not happy when we went to take them back."

"Not to mention that little food fight on top of the Leaning Tower of Pisa," Road Pig spoke as Donald.

"Yes Road Pig, you getting into a fight with **yourself **was the highlight of that trip," Zandar moaned.

"How about Asia?" Zarana asked.

"International wanted list, three fires, four assassinations, some illegal nuclear waste dumping near an orphanage, that enslaving villages scheme in Thailand, a rabid tiger attack…" Zartan counted off. "It's pretty much the same old same old."

"How about all those drug cartels down in South America?" Torch asked. "There's lots of them down there and we can make a bundle."

"We did when we stole from them," Zartan gave him a look. "And burned down a few of their villages. And a few other incidents I am not going to get into here…"

"Yeah the only thing that would unite those guys is their hatred of us," Zarana nodded. "And it goes without saying North America's a wash. Ignoring our feud with the Joes and all the things we done in the US, we still had a few incidents in Canada…"

"Polite people my ass," Buzzer grumbled.

"Until they lose a bloody hockey game then they want to go to war!" Ripper agreed.

"And I really didn't think it was an offense to dress up a moose in an official uniform of the Royal Mounted Police," Monkeywrench added.

"And who could forget the infamous Cinco De Mayo incident in Mexico?" Zartan glared at Torch. "Except for probably Torch."

"It's not my fault! I was unconscious most of the time!" Torch protested. "Those tequilas are a lot stronger down there!"

"Not strong enough for me to forget the incident with the Miss America Pageant, the feuding drug lords, the warehouse full of firecrackers and the other warehouse full of manure!" Zartan snapped.

"I don't suppose that lifetime ban on Antarctica has been lifted?" Zandar asked weakly.

"What do **you** think?" Zartan gave him a look.

"I don't know why," Torch sniffed. "Penguin meat is so tasty when roasted the right way!"

"So where **can** we go where there's fighting?" Buzzer asked.

"I hear the divorce lawyers in California are doing pretty well," Ripper snorted.

"Again California is out," Zartan sighed. "Especially after a certain incident in front of a certain Chinese theater…"

"Oh for crying out loud! Most kids today don't even know who Steve Allen **is!**" Road Pig using his Donald voice threw up his hands. "They're not going to miss his handprints. Why shouldn't someone who actually admires his work take it?"

"Have to admit the man did have talent," Zandar shrugged. "You would wonder what his take on the whole Jay Leno/David Letterman/Conan O'Brian fiasco would have been?"

"Well between that and how the educational system in this country is going downhill I think Steve Allen would be rolling over in his grave," Buzzer admitted.

"Speaking of Dumbth Infinity," Zartan sighed. "Any more ideas from this Meeting of the Mindless?"

"Hey! I know! I can rent myself out as a gigolo!" Torch spoke up. Buzzer hit him on the head. "Oh right…"

"We could sell jewelry online," Monkeywrench suggested. "I can make some pretty cool necklaces out of bones and tiny metal gears."

"You could try it Monkeywrench but I wouldn't get my hopes up," Zartan sighed. "I don't know how much of a market there is for accessories for the psychotic."

"It's not like I'm using human bones!" Monkeywrench sniffed. "Well mostly non-human bones."

"Any other ideas?" Zartan asked. "**Any** other ideas? Come on!"

The Dreadnoks looked at each other. "We could steal some cash," Buzzer suggested weakly.

"From who?" Zandar picked his head up.

"Uh how about those drug lords?" Buzzer scratched his head.

"Isn't that how we got into trouble in almost every continent around the world in the first place?" Zarana asked.

"Then they won't be expecting us!" Ripper added. "I mean they're the ones with the cash!"

"Anyone else have a suggestion?" Zarana sighed.

"We could steal from some of those Wall Street fat cats! They have money!" Donald Spoke through Road Pig.

"That one goes in the maybe pile," Zartan sighed. "On second thought the more I think about it the more that last idea sounds pretty good. If we do rob those wall street tycoons not only will our bank accounts increase, so will our reputation!"

"Yeah people will probably write thank you notes to us for teaching those greedy pigs a lesson," Zarana smirked.

"Okay we are finally getting somewhere," Zartan nodded as he pointed to Zandar to write it down. "I guess that old adage about monkeys with typewriters does have some truth to it."

"Well it may not be Shakespeare but it's more than what I expected," Zandar said. "But we still need some more ideas."

"I know I am going to regret asking this," Zartan sighed. "But what happened to that sitcom you were all writing? You know? The one where you were going to write the exploits of a teenage Serpentor?"

"Oh that," Torch waved. "We were doing all right up until the third episode. Now we're kind of stuck."

"Torch the fact that you wrote more than one episode is a surprise to me," Zartan blinked. "What exactly are you stuck with?"

"Well where we last left off Teenage Serpentor had burned his school down due to an infestation of pregnant zombie clone teenagers," Monkeywrench told him. "And now we're kind of at a dead end. Literally. I mean almost everybody in the script is dead."

"That kind of makes it difficult to write dialog doesn't it?" Zandar gave him a look.

"Boy are you telling me," Torch shook his head. "There's only so much you can say to a decapitated body of your former principal."

"Yeah I mean no ears, no mouth to shout at the kid…" Ripper shrugged.

"No head…" Zandar gave him a look.

"Yeah I think we wrote ourselves into a corner," Torch nodded.

"I told you burning down the school was a stupid move! Everybody knows you do those things at the end of a season! Not at the beginning!" Buzzer snapped.

"Well excuse us for trying to be edgy!" Ripper snapped.

"I know this whole conversation is making **me** edgy," Zartan sighed. "I **knew** that was a mistake to ask."

"Maybe we **should** get some monkeys to help the Dreadnoks write their script?" Zandar suggested. "Lord knows they couldn't make it any worse!"

"We're getting monkeys?" Torch perked up. "Oh wow! Man that changes everything!"

"For the script?" Ripper asked.

"No, mate! For our plans to steal things and make cash!" Torch snapped. "I know it's hard but try to stay focused here! With monkeys in our gang we could make a fortune!"

"We could teach them to steal and stuff!" Monkeywrench said. "Hey! My name is Monkeywrench and if I had a bunch of monkeys I could be Monkeywrench and the Monkeys! Eh? Eh? How cool is that?"

"We could have a band called the Monkeys!" Torch called out. "Oh wait, someone already beat us to that didn't they?"

"We can do one better! We can teach the monkeys to drive our jeeps and use flame throwers!" Ripper said.

"Oh cool! Hey I already know how to make some monkey sized AK 47s! And I can design some of the most rocking outfits for them to wear!" Monkeywrench nodded. "You don't think they would notice that some of the vests are lined with monkey fur?"

"Nah I'm sure it would be okay," Road Pig waved. "Let's go make monkey stuff! And then when the monkeys get here we can blow it up!"

"Yeah! All right! Let's go!" Most of the Dreadnoks ran out the door.

"Hey do monkeys like grape soda?" Torch asked as he stayed behind. "Ah never mind. I'll figure it out. Hey guys I just thought of another experiment we could do!" He ran out of the room.

Zartan and his siblings looked at each other. "I just thought of a cost cutting move," Zandar remarked.

"I think we **all **just thought of a cost cutting move we could do with monkeys," Zartan sighed. "To be fair, monkeys would not only be better trained but cleaner as well."

**Quick little in joke explanation for all you younger readers. Steve Allen was a legendary comedian who was the original host of the Tonight Show. He was also a writer who wrote several books including Meeting of the Minds and Dumbth. (Yes, that is how the book is spelled) The latter being ironically the dumbing down of intelligence in America and schools. And this was way before the Internet hit. He also wrote several really funny mysteries. I highly recommend them if you ever stumble into a library or something. **

**Also there is a saying that if you stick a bunch of monkeys in a room with typewriters long enough the monkeys will write Shakespeare. You can see how well this analogy fits in with the Dreadnoks. **

**So when you re-read this fic you can get the in jokes. Try it. It's funny! **

Torch poked his head out. "No it's not!"


End file.
